Love Will Lead You Back
by DaniMyself
Summary: A night of reunions in Vancouver...not so much a oneshot anymore. Rate T for future chapters.
1. Love Will Lead You Back

**_DISCLAIMER:_** I do not own Degrassi nor its characters, as much as I heart them. I also did not make up the title of this little one-shot. In keeping with the theme of most Degrassi episode names, it is the title of an 80's song by Taylor Dane.

Love Will Lead You Back

Chris was spinning mad beats and the crowd was totally feeling it. At first, I didn't recognize him; it had been years (ok, 3) since graduation and he let his hair grow into a well kept 'fro with the obligatory hair pick stuck into the side. Only a guy as super cool as Chris Sharp could pull off that look.

I was with some of my girlfriends at a club in Vancouver called Gauge. Manny Santos had come to visit me at college and we decided to get a group of girls from my dorm and hit the club scene that night. At my room, Manny had deemed my entire wardrobe "unclubworthy", so I was wearing one of her red tube tops under a sheer black shrug and a scrap of holey denim she claimed was a skirt. Luckily, I had a pair of shoes she said would pass, so I threw on my black strappy wedges. Manny also insisted she do my hair, so I had tight curls bouncing every which way, half of them secured tightly in a messy half-up thingy; frankly it looked more like a mess than anything else, but that's just my opinion. I halted her hand when she waived a tube of BRIGHT red lipstick in my face, but that's the only thing I got away with.

Chris, who was known on the club circuit as "DJ Dark Pony" (WHAT?) must've recognized me right off, because I had barely walked in the door before some ginormous body guard wobbled up to me and man-handled me all the way to the DJ booth.

"Emma Nelson," DJ Dark Pony said loudly, "it's been a long time." I must've looked at him funny because he tilted his head down and slid his sunglasses up, "its Chris, remember me?"

"OH MUH GOSH!" I squealed, "Chris! Of course I remember you!" I hugged his neck.

"How've you been, Em?" he asked.

"Oh, ok," I answered, "I'm here with some friends from the dorm. Oh! Manny's here, too!" I pointed to the cocktail table that my party had claimed.

"Yeah, I saw her first, that's how I saw you." I swear I could actually see him salivating as he looked Manny up and down. I laughed.

"Well, if you aren't spinning all night, you should come dance with us," I said, smiling.

"Eh, I'll probably be up here all night, but even so, you fly ladies shouldn't have to pay for all your drinks," Chris looked at the oaf who dragged me up there, "Yo Chowder, make sure the bar knows that table 15's drinks are on me for the night." I stared wide-eyed at Chris.

"No way, Chris," I shook my head, "There's, like, TEN of us!"

"Yes way, Emma," he chuckled, "and by the way, it's 'Dark Pony' when I'm at work." With a wink, he turned and put his headphones back on.

Manny had a questioning look on her face as I walked to our table.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Well," I began, "That DJ Dark Horsy or whatever happens to be Chris Sharp." Manny's eyes widened.

"Like…from Degrassi!"

I nodded.

"OH MY GOSH!" Manny screamed. She turned around and waived crazily. I could only assume that Chris meant the miniscule head not as a form of recognition.

That big Chowder guy was a pretty quick messenger, because no sooner had I sat down on one of the high stools than did a cocktail waitress come by with a tray full of house shots, and kept them coming steadily. Needless to say, all 10 of us were feeling properly sauced after only having been at the club thirty minutes.

Manny was whisked away by some blonde guy to the middle of the dance floor and the other girls were either off in the ladies room or dancing as well, which left me holding down the fort and playing "Purse Protector" at table 15. As I sipped on a glass of water, trying to level out my blood alcohol level, I watched the clubbers around me. I found Manny boot-bouncing in the middle of a group on the dance floor; blonde guy was MIA. Figures, I thought, he probably thought he could slip Manny a mickey and drag her unconscious ass out of here unnoticed. But Manny, for all of her high school follies, was not a dumb girl and she trusted no man. I felt a little proud of her, glad to know she had wizened up a little.

One of my dorm mates, Maggi, stumbled towards the table.

"Ugh, Emma," she gurgled, "I am NOT doing so well. Brit and Cassie are going to escort me home." I thought I saw her wretch a little bit, which made me wretch a little bit.

"Ok, go go," I shooed her off with one hand and handed her purse to her with the other, "I'll check on you in the morning." Maggi nodded and took of for the ladies room again. I shuddered and drank more water, looking up at the DJ booth. Chris was no longer standing there; instead some other DJ type was up there mixing. I scanned the room looking for his 'fro, and I spotted him in the circle surrounding Manny, eyeballing her like crazy.

"Oh good grief," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"What's the matter," a voice beside me, on the other side of the table, said, "the guy you're scamming is scamming on some other chick?" I turned my head to see the person who belonged to the voice. It was a guy, a little taller than me, with a sandy brown Caesar cut, a sandy brown goatee-mustache-chinstrap combination and dark polarized sunglasses (what is WITH guys wearing shades in a DARK CLUB?). He was wearing a grey, sort of tight, t-shirt with a Flaming Lips logo, dark dirty-wash boot cut blue jeans and some well-worn brown biker boots. I also noted the shiny diamond stud in his left ear. Even though I couldn't see his eyes, the over all package was pretty damn hot. I smiled at Senor Hottie.

"Nah," I said, turning my head back to Chris and Manny, "I'm watching an ex boyfriend try to scam on my best friend. It's quite funny, actually." Out of the corner of my eye I peeked over at Handsome Stranger, who was looking at me and smiling. Or, at least, his head was facing my direction; with those polarized glasses I couldn't really be sure what he was actually looking at. I turned my body toward him.

"What's your story?" I asked him, smiling. He continued smiling at me. I noticed something familiar about that smile, but couldn't place it.

"Well, actually," he began, "I spotted an ex of mine here, too." I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

"Really? Crazy."

"Yeah it is," Handsome continued, "I mean, I haven't seen her in years, but I recognized her immediately. She hasn't really changed much."

"Where is she?" I asked, looking around.

"I lost track of her," he replied, "I doubt she'd want to see me, though."

"Why?"

"A few years ago," Handsome began, "something really messed up happened where we used to live. She and I weren't dating then, in fact, I was actually with another girl, but any ways…I left town immediately after the…tragedy, and I never called her again."

I stared at him. No way, I thought, my heart racing, this is too weird...

"Why didn't you ever call her again? And if you weren't together, why do you care?"

Handsome Stranger leaned forward a little.

"See, I never really got over her, even though I dated other girls. I mean, it was completely my fault that we broke up, but I never stopped having feelings for her."

I noticed a lump that had formed in my throat and tried to chase it away with some water. My fingers trembled as I picked up the glass and raised it to my mouth. This guy continued to stare at me, but his eyebrows were scrunched together and his mouth was set in a firm line.

"I sort of want to talk to her," he said, leaning towards me even more.

"What would you say to her, if she even let you near her?" I asked, my voice wobbling. My eyes began to sting. I saw his hand start to move towards me on the table but he pulled it back quickly.

"I want to tell her how sorry I am for leaving her, when she probably needed me the most at that time. Looking back, I know that I was so selfish in a lot of ways, but me leaving was such a mistake. I'd tell her that I thought about her every day, that I still do, and I'd tell her how I really feel about her, how I've felt about her for years, but never had the balls enough to tell her when I should have." I exhaled the breath I'd been unknowingly holding.

"What do you think her reaction would be?" I wiped away an escapee tear; again I saw his hand move toward me, but again he pulled back.

"She'd probably hit me," he smiled, "she was a really saucy girl. And she'd probably cuss me out; she could cuss like a sailor when I pissed her off enough. And she'd tell me that she could never forgive me, but I wouldn't believe that, and she wouldn't mean it anyway." I chuckled darkly.

"You think so?" I asked.

"I know so," he answered, finally taking my hand in his, "Because I know deep down she loved me, and I loved her, and I still do, and I hope that, if I tell her this, she'd realize that there is a reason why she and I ended up at this club tonight. We have unfinished business." Handsome Stranger pulled my hand to his lips and kissed my palm lightly. I closed my eyes, but my tears fell like heavy pearls down my face.

"That's a beautiful story," I whispered under the thumping bass; I knew he could hear me, "How does it end?" Handsome tried to bury his entire face in my little palm, and I thought I heard him sob.

"Emma," he choked. My lips quivered. With my free hand, I reached across the cocktail table and slowly, tentatively, pulled off the man's sunglasses. Familiar blue eyes, misty with unshed tears, looked up at me. I smiled.

"Sean."


	2. Love On The Rocks

**_DISCLAIMER: _**Once again, I do not own any characters, blah blah blah. Thetitle of this chaper is a songcalled "Love On the Rocks" by Neil Diamond. I thought this would be a one-shot, but it's turning out to be a more-than-one-shot. Hope you likes.

Love on the Rocks

"Come home with me, Emma."

Sean had both of my hands in his own, both of us leaning over the high cocktail table at Gauge, the club where we…ran into each other? Yeah, that's what happened, but it felt much more cosmic than just a run-in.

I looked in to Sean's blue eyes; I never knew how much I missed those eyes looking at me until that night, when I removed the "Handsome Stranger's" sunglasses and confirmed what my heart already knew: Sean Cameron had found me at a dance club in Vancouver after more than 3 years of no communication. Now here he was, on the other side of Table 15, kissing my palms and…asking me to go home with him.

"Sean," I laughed lightly, "I'm here with Manny and a bunch of my dorm mates. I can't just leave them here." Sean grasped my hands tighter.

"Please Em," he pleaded, "I'm not trying to…I'm just…I just want to talk, Emma. I want to get out of this loud-ass club and catch up on the years that I haven't seen you."

Maybe it was the half hour of non-stop shot-taking, maybe it was the fact that my heart missed Sean so bad that it actually overruled my head, or maybe it was his eyes misting over with tears again. Whatever it was, it made me grab my cell phone out of my purse and text Manny.

"'I am leaving'" I typed. I looked over at the DJ booth where Chris had escorted Manny at some point. I saw her pull her cell phone from her cleavage (EW!) and read my message.

"'?'" she texted back.

"'Look our table'" I sent. I pointed at the booth so Sean would look over there. He smirked a little and waved at Manny. She frowned but waved back.

"'Going home wit a stranger?'"

I rolled my eyes and sent her a message back.

"'We know him.'"

"'Name?'"

"'Sean Cameron.'" I looked up at Manny in the booth and saw her eyes widen as big as disco balls.

"'OMG! Call me laterz! Be safe!'"

"'I will. Hugz.'" I flipped my phone shut and looked up at Sean, who was staring at me expectantly.

"Ready to go?" he asked, reaching for my hand.

"Yeah," I said breathlessly. H led me through the crowd of clubbers and out the big door on to the street. He turned and looked at me, a smile on his face. I smiled back shyly. Even though I'd known Sean for years, it was still a little weird and butterfly-inducing to be with him after more than 3 years without ever talking to him.

Sean walked up to a shiny motorcycle and unhooked a helmet from the handle bars.

"Put this on your noggin," he said. I took the helmet from him.

"Where's yours, Biker Boy?" I asked as I clipped the massive thing under my chin. Sean dug a pair of riding goggles out of some saddle bag-looking thing.

"I typically don't have company on my bike, so I leave the extra at home." He turned around to face me and laughed abruptly. I mock frowned.

"You haven't seen me in years and now you're laughing at me? THAT'S polite." I stuck out my bottom lip and crossed my arms. Sean stopped laughing and a serious look took over his face. He reached up and ran his right thumb over my boo-boo lip. The hungry way he was looking at me was exciting and unsettling at the same time. I was unable to move from my spot on the curb; his touch was sending pin pricks of heat and burning cold through my body.

Suddenly, Sean's arm fell back to his side. I snapped out of my daze and smiled nervously. Sean's eyes were burning with…I physically shivered at the thought.

"Hop on, pretty lady," Sean said, gesturing to his bike. Just then, I remembered my attire; if I sat on this motorcycle, I'd flash downtown Vancouver from here to Sean's place, wherever that was.

"Uh, Sean," I said, "I'm sort of…in a miniskirt." Sean furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at my clothes.

"Oh," he said, "Well…um, not to be a pervert, but uh…are you wearing…anything…" he trailed off, blushing. I could feel the heat rising to my own face. It occurred to me that, as long as Sean and I had been together, we'd never come remotely close to being naked. Except for that one time during my "Clean the Ravine" campaign (ugh…the ravine…) we'd never even really made out very heavily. At least Sean had the decency to be embarrassed about our current predicament.

"Well yeah," I answered, "But…I'm wearing a thong, Sean. If it's not one end, it's the other." At the word "thong", Sean threw his head back and closed his eyes tightly. I could only imagine what he was thinking.

"Ok," Sean breathed, "Um…ok, I have an idea." He tugged his shirt over his head and handed it to me. This left his entire upper body exposed. I'll admit it right now: I stared. His chest was so smooth and his skin looked so soft; it beckoned to my hand, just wanting me to run my fingers across his heavenly pectorals… I balled up my hands in to fists, clutching Sean's shirt.

"What should I do with this?" I asked stupidly. Sean smirked at me. Damn that cute mouth, I swore to myself.

"You…put it on?"

OH. Duh. I untied the shrug that Manny had lent me and shimmied it off, handing it to Sean. I was left in the red tube top and 4 inches of denim that was serving as a skirt. I didn't dare look to see if Sean was watching. I pulled his grey Flaming Lips shirt over the helmet and slipped my arms in. It fell past my knees. Smart boy.

"Now," Sean turned and threw a leg over his bike and settled into the seat, "tuck your purse and that black thingy into the pack on the back of the seat and hop on behind me." I did as I was told. Sitting behind Sean, I still felt a little "exposed", so I scooted up close to his back. I didn't know what to do with my arms, so I just them hang at my sides as Sean cranked up the engine. He turned to look at me.

"Better hold on," he said. He pulled away from the curb slowly. I threw my arms around his waist; what can I say? I am a bit of a wuss. I felt him put a hand on my arm and squeeze, reassuring me.

It was about a twenty minute ride from the club to Sean's flat, which was above a shop of some sort just outside of the downtown area. He pulled his motorcycle into a dark alley. I must've tensed up in apprehension because he turned his head back a little to see my face.

"It's ok, Em," he said over the loud engine, "I have indoor parking." He pulled up next to a small garage door and punched a code into a key pad on the door frame. The door rose up and Sean slowly drove inside. Hanging up on every wall and lying all over the floor were parts to either a car or motorcycle. There was barely room enough to park the bike.

Sean turned off the engine and kicked the kick-stand down with his heal. I scooted back on the seat to give him room to get off the motorcycle. He swung his right leg over and held out his hands to help me down. I grabbed them and wiggled my way off the seat, trying hard not to be too indecent. Sean took my purse and shrug out of the seat pack and handed them to me.

"C'mon," he gestured towards a doorway, "Let's have some tea or juice." Tea or juice? Bizarre offering, I thought, but I'd rather have one of those than more alcohol. I followed him through the doorway which led to a narrow, carpeted staircase. Sean smacked the wall garage door button and locked the door behind us. Taking my hand, he led me up the stairs and into an apartment kitchen. It was small, but then again, I didn't even HAVE a kitchen in the dorm. Sean pulled out a 50's style metal and vinyl chair and I sat down. He walked over to the fridge and stuck his head in.

"We've got peach or green tea," he listed, "or cran-apple juice, apple-apple juice, lemonade iced tea –"

"Is there an entire beverage isle in there?" I laughed. I saw Sean's shoulders shaking in laughter.

"Almost," he chucked, "There's also chocolate milk. Not genetically modified, of course." I rolled my eyes.

"Funny boy," I said dryly, "Can I have some lemonade-iced tea with ice, please?"

"Coming right up," Sean said. He pulled a pitcher out and shut the fridge door. While he poured me a beverage, I looked around the room. It was sparsely decorated, but whose kitchen wasn't? There was a drying rack on the counter next to the sink, which prompted me to look for a dishwasher. There wasn't one. Weird.

I looked back over at the fridge and noticed some pictures stuck on the front with magnets that looked like miniature tools. I got up and walked over to take a better look.

The pictures were of a baby. A little girl with curly brown hair, darker than Sean's, and blue eyes. Oh my God, I thought. Sean has a baby, Sean has a baby…

"Who's this?" I asked, my throat constricting. He looked at me and smiled.

"Isn't she the cutest?" he asked, turning back to the drinks, "Her name is Miley."

She was adorable, I had to admit. In one photo, she smiled big at the camera with all four of her little baby teeth; two on top and two on the bottom. Her curly hair was a mess around her face, and it looked like she had grape jelly smeared on her cheeks. But I was still in awe at the prospect of Sean being a father.

"Here you go, Em," Sean said, holding out a glass to me. I took it from him and started back to the table.

"Let's have a tour, shall we?" he asked in a British accent. I smiled weakly and followed him out of the kitchen, the image of the cute little girl on the fridge who had to be Sean's daughter burning in my head.

I don't know why it surprised me. I mean, it had been YEARS since I'd even talked to Sean. So much had happened to me during those years, why did I think that Sean had stayed the same? And so what if he did have a baby? I love babies. I could handle him having a baby.

WHY would I need to be able to handle Sean having a baby, anyway! What am I thinking, I scolded myself, I'm not even WITH Sean that way…yet.

YET! Slow down, turbo!

"This is the living room," Sean said, knocking me out of my private reverie. I looked around. We had obviously come in the back way, because there was a thick front door on the wall opposite where we were standing, with a peep hole and a chain lock as well. On the wall to my right there was a black leather couch with deep red throw pillows in each corner; a tall black floor lamp beside one arm, and a chrome and black wood end table beside the other arm. Next to the front door was a leather overstuffed chair with a matching ottoman. On the wall opposite the couch was a wide chrome and black wood entertainment center that held the TV, DVD player, stereo and various videogame systems. Some shelves held knick knacks, like model cars and motorcycles, and other shelves held pictures in silver frames. It looked like most of the pictures were of Sean and Miley, but some were of Tracker and some chick, some were of his mom and others were of Sean leaning against an old remodeled classic car. Above the entertainment center hung two black and white electric guitars. In the middle of the hardwood floor lay a large, zebra print area rug and on top of that, a glass and chrome rectangular coffee table. It was a very modern, very manly looking room.

"What do you think?" Sean asked with a grin.

"I think it's great, actually," I said, impressed, "It's very….you." I smiled up at him.

"Thanks," he said, walking to his left, "There's a bit more left." He led me through a doorway into a hall. In front of us was a modest bathroom with similar décor to the living room. Down the right end of the hall was a room that held a twin sized bed with a khaki-colored bed set and a computer desk. It was a small-ish room, so there was only room for those two things, and a play pen. Oh boy, I thought, I'd almost forgotten about the baby.

On the other end of the hall was the master bedroom, where Sean and I stepped in. Sean had a full-sized bed with a black bedspread, crimson pillowcases and a crimson, straight bed skirt. The bed was angled in the corner of the room, facing the doorway. Beside the bed, on the right, was a black nightstand with a silver lamp and an alarm clock. On the left side was Sean's dresser, also black with silver knobs. On top of the dresser he had a jar of change, some cologne, and a silver picture frame. I walked in further and noticed a walk-in closet, which wasn't messy at all. Also bizarre, I thought. I stood in front of the dresser.

"Your place is so nice, Sean, I'm impressed," I said. Sean smiled humbly.

"I got sick of living like a pig," he said, "So I went out and got furniture and bedding and I tried to make it look like something. I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor for a long time." I laughed, turning around to look at his dresser. I picked up the bottle of cologne and smelled it. Mmmm, I thought, I remember this scent.

"Smell familiar?" Sean asked. I blushed.

"Maybe a little," I replied. I set the cologne back down and noticed the picture in the frame.

"Wow," I said, picking the frame up and turning to face Sean, "That's an old picture. I can't believe you have it out." It was a picture of me and him, his arm around my shoulders, sitting on the front steps of Degrassi Community School, circa grade 9. He had his stupid black beanie hat on under his grey sweatshirt hood, and I still had braces and one-length hair. I laughed.

"I look like such a dork," I said. Sean walked up and took the picture out of my hands gently.

"It's my favorite picture of us. I'm actually smiling in it," he said, setting it back down on the dresser. I noticed a pink baby doll lying on the floor near the closet.

"Playing with dolls again, Sean?" I asked, pointing at the doll. He walked over and picked it up, smirking.

"Miley's," he replied, "She thinks she owns the place." He walked out of the bedroom and I followed. He threw the doll in a basket by the front door.

"Who's got custody of her?" I asked, sitting down on the overstuffed chair. Sean sat on the ottoman, facing me.

"Her mom," he said, leaning forward to take my hand.

"What's it like to be a daddy?" I asked. Sean gave me a puzzled look.

"Hell, I dunno," he said, "Ask Tracker." I stared at Sean.

WOW am I an idiot.


	3. Heart and Soul

_**DISCLAIMER:**_ I don't own anything but the plot, blahdy blah blah. The title of this chapter is a song by T'Pau. It's rather excellent, you should definitely have a listen.

Heart and Soul

I stared at Sean like a complete freak.

"Tracker?"

"Yeah, Tracker is Miley's dad." Realization dawned on Sean's face.

"OH… you thought she was MY daughter?!" I looked down at the floor, my face burning.

"Yeah…" I muttered, "I did." Sean laughed out loud.

"No wonder you looked queasy!" He stood and pulled me up with him. I frowned at him.

"I did not look 'queasy'," I protested.

"Ok," he said, "Constipated, then." I swatted at his still-bare chest, my fingertips grazing his pectorals. Yum. Sean pulled me into an embrace. I wrapped my arms around his waist for the second time that evening, laying my cheek on his shoulder. He rested his own cheek against my head.

"I missed you, Em," he whispered. I squeezed him a little.

"I missed you too Sean," I whispered back, "Why'd you stay gone so long? You never called or emailed…"

"I'm so sorry," Sean said, "I got caught up in a lot of crap. My dad went to jail, mom got sick, I had to deal with a new old school… I just got caught up. I only ever called Ellie once, much less anyone else." This surprised me. I pulled away to look at him.

"Why only once?"

"To break up with her," he replied, "But I want to know about you. What have YOU been up to?" Sean let me go, and I sat back down in the chair and he on the ottoman.

"Well," I winced. This was going to be… awkward… "Uh… did you ever talk to Jay Hogart after you left?" I was COMPLETELY dreading telling Sean about my "ravine incident" (ugh… the ravine…) with Jay.

"Only once," Sean spat, "I didn't like what he had to say, so I never spoke to him again." I caught a look in his eye that told me that he preferred not talking about Jay, but I had to know what they talked about.

"What did he tell you?"

"He told me that you… y'know," he replied, "And that you caught his STD." I winced. Again.

"Yeah."

"I basically told him that if he ever came near you again, he would no longer be equipped to give any other woman anything EVER again." Oh. Wow.

"Well," I sighed, "After THAT fiasco, I tried to lay low for the most part. Snake's cancer got really bad at one point, and then I found out that he was cheating on my mom with Miss Hatzilakos." Sean grimaced.

"Ew," he said, "I'm sorry, Emma."

"It's ok," I reassured him, "it blew over. But at the time, I was secretly dating her son, Peter. He videotaped Manny flashing her boobs while she was drunk, and sent it to the entire school." Sean's eyes widened.

"Damn," he laughed, "Nice guy!"

"Yeah, well, he turned to be pretty decent at times," I said, "He was there for me when I…" I didn't really want to go there, to when I was sick.

"When you what, Emma?" Sean pressed. I sighed, knowing I already started it. May as well finish, and see what happens after that, I thought.

"I… started starving myself, and throwing up what I did manage to eat." I looked at Sean; I can't remember a time where I've seen him so sad. I felt really shitty.

"Why, Emma?" he asked, putting a hand on each knee and leaning in, "You were never even CLOSE to fat? You were always so confident in yourself."

"Looking back, it wasn't a self esteem issue, not directly," I explained, "My life was falling apart around me; Snake's cancer was getting worse, he was cheating on my mom, the whole Jay thing, the shooting… I didn't feel like I had a handle on anything. So I took control of something." Sean hung his head.

"I am so sorry for not being there, Emma," he said, "I'm sorry for being so selfish." I shook my head.

"No Sean," I protested, "You had to do what you had to do. I should've been able to handle it better."

"Are you still… I mean, do you eat?" His eyes held so much concern, it was almost unbearable to look at him.

"I haven't done anything remotely close in years. When I think about it now, it feels like a piece of someone else's life that got grafted into mine by mistake, and I just sort of had to deal with it. I talked to some therapists, to my parents, Manny constantly watched me eat and made sure I didn't go near any toilets too soon afterwards," I shrugged my shoulders, "It's weird to think about it now. I know what I was thinking and feeling, but I'm still not sure about it. But Peter was a big help, and I was and still am very grateful to him for that. Unfortunately, he really was a big ol' creep deep down.

"After grad, I started at university, and here I am!" I tried to be a little more cheerful; I didn't want my reunion with Sean to be drug down by the "Old Emma Blues".

"So, are you seeing anyone now?" Sean asked as he got up. He walked to the coffee table and picked up a remote, clicking the stereo on. I smiled to myself; he's trying to create a mood, I thought.

"Nope, and the last boyfriend I had was Peter Stone. Such is my sad excuse for a romantic life," I answered.

"How come?" Sean asked, walking back towards the ottoman. He pulled me up to my feet and guided me towards an empty floorspace.

"Just busy with classes, I guess," I replied, "That, and there is a SEVERE decent man draught at school." As I was speaking, Sean put one hand on the small of my back and held my hand with the other. I let my free arm lay gently on his shoulder. I smiled coyly at him.

"Are YOU seeing anybody, Sean?" I asked. He looked down at me, laughing.

"No Emma, I am not," he replied, "But I WAS wondering…"

I may be an idiot. Even after the sweet palm kisses, the invitation to come home with him, the shirt off his back, and then the dancing, I really wasn't prepared for what would ultimately happen that night. But I couldn't have prevented it if I HAD known, because my heart knew, even if my stupid brain didn't, that I still loved Sean Cameron.

"Wondering what, Sean?" I nudged. His cheeks were a little pink and I thought I could feel him tremble a little bit.

"Uh, I was wondering what you would think if I asked you… Aw crap. I'm so freaking nervous," he laughed nervously. So cute. "What I'm trying to get at Em, is that I would really love to start seeing you again. And before you go getting all semantical on me, you know VERY well what I mean by 'seeing you again'." Sean stopped swaying to the music and looked at me with both humor and seriousness. I couldn't help but smirk a little.

"'Semantical' isn't word, Sean," I teased, "But despite your grammatical imperfections, I would love to start seeing you again, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Cool," Sean smiled. I laughed.

"'Cool'? That's all you could muster up, Mister Eloquence?"

"My brain can't think of anything better at the moment," he replied, still smiling like an idiot. I really liked when he smiled like an idiot; it mean he was retardedly happy, and I loved that.

"Yeah well your cheeks are gonna lock up in that 'Cat Ate the Canary' face if you don't quit."

"Can't help it. I'm so happy I spotted you at the club tonight, you don't even REALIZE!" Sean exclaimed. I couldn't blame him really. I was pretty damn sublime, myself. He pulled me closer, hugging me, but this one was more… I dunno. It started off sweet and happy, but the longer we held each other, the more it became some other kind of touching altogether. It felt more urgent, more heated. I looked up at him, and for the first time that evening, I noticed how delicious his lips looked. He must have caught me eyeing them hungrily, because he dipped his head and pulled my chin up, and our lips touched. Softly at first, as if we were allowing them to get reacquainted. I pulled away and looked at him; his eyes were a darker blue than I'd ever seen them. They made me visibly shiver, but the really really good kind of hot shiver. I pressed my lips against his again, this time much more urgently. I heard him moan against them, a deep rumble-y moan that made my tummy do a free fall and bounce back up real quick. Holy shit, I thought.

My hands found their way up to his neck, where one held its spot there at the back. I ran the fingernails of my other hand through Sean's hair, remembering how he used to tell me that it "drove him crazy" when I did it. Apparently, nothing had changed.

"God, Emma," he whispered heatedly, coming up for air, "You still drive me crazy."

I told you.

I kissed him roughly, nipping his bottom lip lightly. He ran the tip of his tongue along mine. I felt his hands traveling along my hips and sides. With my right hand, I pulled the hem of the Flaming Lips shirt I was still wearing up and over my head; I wasn't sure what was going to happen that night, but I knew that right then, there was too much cotton and not enough skin. Sean helped the shirt off and the feel of his rough hands on my back and neck made me shiver for a third time. I arched into him, and he groaned much deeper and louder than he had yet.


End file.
